Chapter 226
Chapter 226
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 226
Chapter Title: Late Summer Turns to Autumn (2)
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"Tell me how to get to Adren. Ideally, a way to arrive in one piece."
"What?"
Itargand furrowed his brow. It was a completely unexpected question. He asked in a tone full of suspicion.
"Why the sudden urge to go to Adren?"
"Well, to put it simply..."
Ronan's explanation followed. Since he was Navardoje's son anyway, it seemed fine to tell him.
There were too many reasons to head to the Dragon City. First off, Varka's words from the Sea of Ghosts nagged at him. It had already been months since the cult leader mentioned making contact with Adren at that meeting, so it wouldn't be surprising if some conspiracy was already underway.
Moreover, from the materials on Varka compiled over the past two days, he could infer that some cult followers had already infiltrated Adren. He had no idea what was happening there. But since it came straight from the cult leader's mouth, the possibility that the man himself had gone and was still lingering couldn't be dismissed.
Somehow obtaining Cult Leader Abel's blood was Ronan's most urgent task right now. His father, Cain, had only about a year left.
'At this point, it's like the world itself is shoving me toward it.'
Even if he couldn't meet the cult leader, it wouldn't be a losing proposition. Ali Brihe, an early member of Nebula Klazie, was there.
Unlike Elcia, he was said to still be with the cult, so there was a high chance he knew detailed information about the cult leader's whereabouts or the Bald One's descent plan. Itargand said,
"That's no small matter, for sure. At that point, shouldn't the army step in?"
"I think so too. The problem is whether Adren will accept them."
"Fair point."
In fact, as soon as the cult's conspiracy came to light, Ronan had requested the Imperial Army dispatch troops to Adren. As a covert agent, he had the authority to mobilize soldiers for anything related to Nebula Klazie, reasons be damned.
'They'll refuse for sure. Be lucky if the messenger doesn't get killed.'
But Ronan knew Adren wouldn't accept the request. The city, formed by the world's most powerful race and their forces, didn't give a damn about the Empire's opinions. Especially not since Navardoje had left to fend off enemies from the skies above.
She had called the current Dragon King an utterly "dragon-like" dragon—which boiled down to the guy having a piss-poor personality. Itargand said,
"Actually, getting there isn't hard. All means of transport to the gateway are allowed except spatial magic. The issue is immigration control."
"Obviously, can't just stroll in?"
"Right. Only dragons and their servants are permitted entry. Show even a hint of suspicion, and they'll incinerate you on the spot. You could probably build a whole country from the bodies piled up at the gate."
"Fuck."
Ronan spat out a curse. It was so stringent it bordered on absurd. Security was insanely tight, probably because it was where the Dragon King and hatchlings lived.
'Damn, what to do?'
No way to pass immigration came to mind. As he pondered deeply, a bolt of inspiration flashed through Ronan's head.
"Hold on. I could just temporarily become your servant. Just for the inspection."
"What?"
"Exactly what I said. Imprint your seal on me. Can't believe I didn't think of this sooner."
"Looks like you don't grasp what becoming a servant entails. An imprint isn't just some drawing. It's a magical binding that contracts a master-servant relationship... You bastard, don't tell me."
Itargand's eyes widened as he trailed off. He finally caught on to what Ronan meant. Ronan chuckled and patted his sword hilt.
"Yeah. It's a 'magical' binding. I can cut magic. Pass the checkpoint, then sever the imprint. Simple, right?"
"Ridiculous. You think that's possible?"
"I think it is. Just wait."
Suddenly, Ronan dashed out of the training ground. When he returned, he held a hefty crow in his hands. The crow, dozing on a tree branch before being kidnapped, flapped wildly and cawed.
"Caw! Caaaaw!"
"Here, imprint this one."
Ronan held out the crow. Itargand's brow furrowed deeply.
"...Humiliating."
"Come on."
With a sigh, Itargand placed his hand on the crow's wing. For a moment, his palm glowed red beneath. The thrashing crow calmed down.
"Caw?"
"Done..."
Itargand withdrew his hand. A geometric seal appeared. It looked like a burn mark from a branding iron, but it wasn't hot. The bewildered crow spread its wings and roared.
"Caaaaw!"
"Whoa!"
Startled, Ronan hugged the crow with both arms. He nearly dropped it. Thanks to sharing Itargand's power, the crow's strength rivaled an ostrich's.
"You little shit. Stay still!"
"Caw! Caaaaw!"
The crow struggled, shitting everywhere. Losing patience, Ronan drew his sword hilt. Slash! The sharp blade grazed lightly over the imprinted surface.
"...Kreek?"
The crow went limp, ceasing resistance. Itargand's brow crumpled. He felt the bond with the crow sever.
"My god."
The near-miraculous swordsmanship left not even a scratch on the crow. Where the imprint had vanished, only glossy black feathers remained. Itargand muttered in a daze.
"This... impossible."
"Yeah... tell me about it."
Ronan was just as stunned. He figured it might work, but not this easily. Scratching his head, he blurted,
"It worked."
****
Time flew by. With the cicadas' final performance over, dragonflies ripe with red swarmed the drill yard.
The heat-broken sky shone a deeper blue. The season of abundance, autumn, was approaching.
Ronan didn't head straight to Adren. Given the place and the cult leader's involvement, he needed thorough preparation. The gear commissioned from Aurora Scal hadn't arrived yet either.
'Better than rushing and fucking up.'
He took every possible measure. He shared Nebula Klazie intel with the Imperial Army and bolstered security at the house where Iril lived. Reports of small branches being wiped out came frequently.
Of course, he didn't neglect personal training. Sparring among Special Adventure Club members continued daily without fail. Ronan ducked Marya's horizontal slash and struck her wrist with his sword's flat.
"Eek!"
"You've improved for sure. Still a bit slow, though."
"Grr, you think we'll lose this time too? Everyone, charge!"
At her shout, members rushed from all sides. Asel's ice, Erzsebet's flames, and Ophelia's blood magic linked and poured forth. Braum raised his shield from a perfect position.
"Oho."
Ronan whistled in admiration. Their fluid coordination suggested they'd spent summer vacation productively.
Friends he hadn't seen in nearly two months had all grown remarkably. Marya now commanded fame among nobles not just as a merchant but as a swordswoman. Asel and Erzsebet received love calls from every magic tower—the first students ever to do so.
Senior Braum had his path set: starting in the ultra-competitive Imperial Knights. Ophelia had deciphered an ancient blood spell, and Schlieffen went without saying. Watching the onslaught, Ronan grinned.
"Glad I met you all."
He meant it. These comrades were a solid driving force, igniting his will to save the world. Ronan gripped his sword hilt.
"So hit me harder."
The blade honed at Aurora Scal felt much lighter than before. Ronan responded to their efforts with full power. Slash! The sweeping arc shredded incoming magic from all directions. Soon, shattered members rolled on the ground.
"Aaaah! Not fair! Why won't the sword hit?!"
"Every... day... what is this... waaah..."
Whines echoed everywhere. Excluding Schlieffen, the members' win rate hovered at 0%. They were growing fast, but so was Ronan—it was only natural.
The results never changed no matter how many times, but it wasn't meaningless. Scanning the exhausted members, Ronan nodded.
"Alright. I've decided."
"Decided what?"
"Who's coming on the next club activity. Asel, you're with me."
"M-Me?! Wait...!"
Asel's eyes bulged. Ignoring him, Ronan hoisted him over his shoulder. Having fully depleted his mana after ages, Asel couldn't even resist.
"S-Save meee!"
"Ah, Asel... damn it."
Only pitiful screams rang out. Braum, mid-sentence, fainted. The exhausted members pitied him while relieved it wasn't them.
****
"W-What do you mean? Adren?!"
"Exactly that. You wouldn't know, but I agonized forever over who to bring."
Ronan explained his plan three hours after depositing Asel in his room. Giving time to recover mana and stamina prevented fainting. Panting, Asel continued.
"Adren's the city of d-dragons. Why go to such a terrifying place?"
"Various reasons. Don't tell me the genius mage is scared of this."
"G-Genius...? I'm not..."
"Don't say it with a straight face. If you're not a genius, most mages should off themselves. And I heard from Marya, dude. You just wrecked them up north."
Ronan patted Asel's back appreciatively. His feats from Marya recently sounded more than heroic.
He'd basically defended the Karabel Merchant Group single-handedly. Savage natives and Jager's thugs attacked day and night, but Asel's telekinesis didn't let them leave a single claw mark.
Sparring confirmed it these past days. Asel would be useful even in Adren. Ronan continued,
"Think about it: the city of the world's best magic-users. Won't you get inspired? Way better intel than what those magic tower geezers teach."
"N-New spells?"
Asel's eyes flickered momentarily. Even terrified, he reacted to new spells—mages were all alike. Ronan nodded.
"Yeah. Quick trip there, and you'll skyrocket. Marya'd love it too."
"W-Why bring her up?"
"Since the north trip, that fine lady's developed proper feelings for you. For real."
Marya's view of Asel had shifted too. Ronan recalled her subtle expression while recounting his exploits.
'He hasn't noticed, the clueless one.'
Before, she treated him like a same-sex friend or cute stuffed toy. Now, definitely romantic—at least a reliable comrade to trust your back to. Asel's eyes widened.
"M-Marya...? Really?"
"I don't lie about that stuff. Decline if you want. But to be brutally honest..."
Suddenly, Ronan's tone grew grave. The shift made Asel gasp. After a pause, Ronan spoke.
"I need your power, Asel."
"R-Ronan...?"
"This trip feels different from our usual jaunts. Tense, maybe. Gut says I need comrades."
Ronan bit his lower lip. No wonder he'd agonized so long. Getting swept into incidents was one thing; dragging friends into foreseen danger wasn't easy.
"But really, feel free to refuse. This journey's riskier than most. It's just my request, not an order."
"I..."
As Asel started to reply, knock knock. Maid Lucy entered abruptly, holding a sturdy-looking box.
"Hello, Ronan. Here's a package."
"Ah, leave it there. From where?"
"Aurora Scal...? From someone named Katan."
"Ah, finally. Thanks as always, Lucy."
Lucy replied with a warm smile and left. Awkward silence settled.
The heavy mood turned ambiguous. Scratching his chin, Ronan pointed at the package.
"Well, let's open this first and finish talking."